Brothers of the Hist
by scaled wanderer
Summary: The story of three Argonians and the events that made them inseperable. Follow their antics and adventures as they grow into a brotherhood with bonds tighter then steel. Rated T for some violence. Later chapters will be rated M. Part 6 is up! Sorry for the wait! More chapters coming soon!
1. Part I: Brothers in Crime

Author's Notes

Hello everyone. This is my first fanfic ever. I have played, and had the most fun, as an Argonian in the Elder Scroll games Morrowind, Oblivion, and Skyrim. These games are made by Betheseda Inc. and they hold the rights to everything about them, including the lore. I only claim these three characters, and their stories, as my creations. Recently while playing Skyrim, I would be going through a dungeon or cave and would think up of a neat story about how my three characters would get together and how they would go about exploring it. Sometimes I would sit in the middle of the dungeon for about an hour and daydream up a story. I never wrote any of it down until now because I was actively playing the game at the time. After typing out a few dungeon stories, I thought up of just how these three Argonians came together and an elaborate backstory unfolded, leading up to their antics and adventures in the land of Skyrim.

Additional notes:

-This story starts out roughly 10 years before the storyline in the Skyrim game, and then will be linear to the in-game story line once the trio gets to Skyrim.

-The main characters are initially known by the dominant color of their scales for the first few parts till they have their naming ceremony. This is my 'youngling name' for them, and they are not called this name by any of the others characters in the story.

-Both the black and green Argonian males were born in Argonia (aka Black Marsh) in a un-named village near the heart of the marsh. And because of that I would like to point out that they have digitigrade legs and feet that Argonians from the Morrowind game had. To me, this characteristic is cooler then the Oblivion/Skyrim normal model legs (in my opinion). And since the bronze female was born in Cyrodill, she has normal legs. All three will have facial characteristics from the Skyrim game's facial detail/coloring system. I know that the Argonians with Morrowind digitigrade legs had differant looking faces then the Skyrim ones, but this is my story. Also, Argonian females do not have breasts in this story. Sorry guys.

-Black and Green, hailing from Black Marsh, know how to speak both the Argonian language and the Common tongue. In the first few chapters they are in, when they are young, all speech is spoken in it (pretty much clicks, whistles, growls, body language, and even smells) and will not be in italics. When they get to Skyrim, they will be speaking mostly Common speech. When that time comes, all Argonian speech will be in **bold** to emphasize that they are speaking it, like when they say something private in front of others. Bronze does not know any of the native Argonian tongue, but the other two will, from time to time, teach her some of it.

-Not one of these three will be the Dragonborn when they get to Skyrim in this story. However, they will meet the Dragonborn from time to time, and it will be pretty entertaining I can assure you of that. They will arrive in Skyrim around the same time the Dragonborn does, though not in the same manner.

-When the story gets to Skyrim, I will be taking a lot of the descriptions of the towns, dungeons, and denizens from the game while adding in little tweaks of my own.

-The first few chapters will be rated T for some blood and violence, but this will change to an M rating after the first few chapters two due to language, violence, and adult scenes.

-As a final note, I would like to thank the people of Betheseda for thinking up my favorite video game species, the Argonians.

And now, the story. Enjoy.

**Brothers of the Hist**

Part I: Brothers in Crime

The black scaled youngling scampered up to the great marsh tree in search of the dragonfly he was after. After seeing this little bug's orange skin, he had to have it. His green scaled nest-mate following closely behind, intent on being the first to catch the sparkly bug.

"I see it!" said the green one.

"Don't let it go!" replied the black one.

They both raced up the huge trunk of the tree after the insect, ignoring the fact that they shouldn't be there.

"This bug is mine!" says the black hatchling.

"Not on your life!" says the green one.

Unbeknownst to the two younglings, the old seer from their village was watching the two with a knowing smile on his face. 'It was always nice to see children having an adventure,' he thought to himself. 'Most Argonians are taught to stay with and protect the Hist. But not these two. They like to explore too much. They will surely get into trouble.' He continues to watch their antics from the shadows of a moss laden swamp bush nearby.

"I think it went up there!" said the green one.

"I see it!" replied the black one.

They both clamber up to a wide branch a few yards off the ground, looking frantically to see which offshoot that the dragonfly had settled on. As they creep closer, the black youngling sees a glint of orange a little ways out on a slender branch coming off the main beam. He starts to slowly creep out on the thin limb, his green cohort close behind. The branch starts to groan with the weight of the two as they move farther out onto it. The two younglings proceed to inch down the branch towards the insect. Once he thought he was close enough, the black one leaps at the dragonfly and takes a swipe at it. The sudden movement causes the slender branch to sway back and forth violently, and they both let out suprised yelps and fall. The green scaled one manages to find a branch below and manages to grab a hold of it while the black scaled one crashes to the soft marshy ground. The dragonfly flies off out of sight.

"HA, you suck giant slug eggs!" said the green one to the black one, upside down and still clinging to the branch by his hands and feet, tail hanging down.

"Aww stuff it, I almost had it!" replied the black one, brushing himself off.

Adjusting his headress, the seer steps out of the shadows and leans on his plain wooden stave.

"What are you two up to, hmmmmm?" says the old seer, trying his best to act serious.

"Nothing!" says the two shocked hatchlings.

"Nothing? I guess that the Hist tree just needed a good climbing then?"

The two younglings exchange a quick glance. The green one let's go of the branch and drops to the ground.

"Do either of you know how important the Hist tree is to us?" the seer says, looking up at the giant tree that dwarfed the nearby foliage.

They both nodded furiously.

"It is the very center of our beings, the thing that makes us who we are. It is also the Hist that gives us our names, among other things," says the old one, his voice getting low. He bends down to eye level with the two, his simple kilt touching the ground. "How long till your naming ceremony, young ones?"

"Tomorrow!" they say together.

"Hmm, let's hope the Hist forgives you two before then for I don't think either of you want to be given names like Plays-With-Mud or Eats-Many-Slugs."

"It better not!" gasps the green scaled youngling, wringing his hands.

"OH? And what do you have to say regarding the Hist, eh? IT will call you whatever IT pleases."

The black youngling looks down at the his feet, picking at a string on his loin cloth, "We are sorry for climbing on the great tree, ser."

"If I were you, I'd get back to your nests as quickly as possible lest the Hist thinks up of any more bad names for you!"

The two hatchlings scamper off through the swamp trees.

"Those two... I wonder..." ponders the old Seer with a chuckle as he stands back up with the help of his stave. He reaches out slender hand and touches the smooth bark of the giant tree for a few moments, then glances up and nods.

"I see."

* * *

The two young males race back through the marsh along the path to their home. Dusk was beginning to settle quickly around them, made even darker by giant looming trees all around.

"Hey, wait up!" cries out Black Scale, who had begun to lag a little behind.

"You're winded already? Sheesh, you need to lay off the pond beetles!" chirps Green Scale, poking his friend in his somewhat chubby arm.

Black Scale breaks off a nearby rotting branch and throws it at Green Scale, who nimbly ducks it and grabs a handful of mud and chucks it back, his dark grey eyes wide in mock horror. It hits Black Scale right in the face. Black Scale growls, spitting mud out from between his teeth while whiping at his sky blue eyes.

Green Scale dances around him teasingly "Your names gonna be Mud-In-Face!"

Black Scale lunges after Green Scale and they grapple. Black Scale starts to slowly gain ground on his skinnier nest-mate when he slips on a patch of wet moss and, with a squeal, they both go down in a mud puddle off the side of the path. When they both manage to scrabble out of the stangant pool, they both look at each other covered in mud and reeds, and burst out laughing. A beast-like shriek way out in the marsh cuts the laughter short and they hurry along the winding path home picking reeds out of their clothes.

They both heave a sigh of relief when they saw a warm familiar light shining throught the trees. They slowed to a walk as they neared the small circle of huts built out of wood and mud bricks. In the middle of the tiny village a small bonfire lit up the darkness with a warm light. Two wooden poles were erected on each side of the fire with an iron rod tied up between the two. A line of fat catfish were impaled upon the rod from their gills and hung over the fire, the grease dripping from their tales into the fire with a delicious sizzle.

Multicolored adults hustled here and there. Blues, greens, reds, bronzes, and blacks, to name a few, were preparing food, spices, and drink for the coming meal, adding wood to the fire, or setting up logs and chairs to sit on. Everyone was contributing in some way. The larger males, clad in simple loin clothes, did most of the heavy lifting and carrying while the smaller females, clad in thin skirts or aprons and beaded jewelry, worked the tables of herbs and meats. Black Scale found his mother, Sta-Sansa near one such table, crushing herbs and minerals into a spice paste with a mortar and pestel clutched in her ebony hands. Green Scale's mother, Hie-Ingra was nearby, taking a dish and dipping a brush made of marsh grass into it. She then mounts the brush onto the end of a long wooden pole and then brushes the catfish hanging above the fire with the spices. The two younglings stomachs began to growl as the smell of cooking meat intensified with the added spices.

"Where have you two been?" asks Sta-Sansa in a questioning tone, taking note of the two younglings covered in mud.

"Exploring." says Black Scale inoccently.

"Exploring where exactly?" asks Hie-Ingra back from spicing up the catfish, looking at them both in the eye. She puts down the spice-pole and reaches an emerald hand to Green Scale and pulls him to her, attempting to wipe mud from his face with her apron.

"Oh, nowhere in particular, just chasing bugs." Says Green Scale, scratching dried mud off the small spiny nubs on the back of his head, looking up into his mothers face.

"You know, you two shouldn't have been out this late. You could have been eaten by any number of monsters roaming the darkness." says Hie-Ingra, trying to sound a bit spooky. She drops her hands giving up on wiping away all the mud and letting go of Green Scale.

"What kind of monsters?" asked Black Scale. His and Green Scales eyes widen in earnest.

"Not the kind that you should worry about" replies Sta-Sansa with a sidelong glance at Hie-Ingra. "Now you two hurry and go wash that mud off and see about helping your fathers set up for the night-meal"

"Awwww..." they both moan in unison.

"We wanna hear more about the monsters!" says Black Scale in an excited voice.

"Nope, now go!" says Hie-Ingra, raising her voice.

The two hurry off, but are soon distracted by a group of their fellow younglings running by squealing with laughter. They take off with the pack into the shadows of the huts.

"You know not to mention monsters around those two, it only makes them want to hear more." says Sta-Sansa to Hie-Ingra as they watch the two run off.

"Or caves, or magic, or wars, or anything dangerous for that matter." quips Hie-Ingra with a smile.

"Lets just hope they don't hear anything about whats been happening to the fish traps as of late, because you know what will happen." says Sta-Sansa with a motherly sigh.


	2. Part II: Add a Little Fire

Author's Note: Part two is done. Any reviews is greatly appreciated. The more brutal the better. I have been correcting mistakes (i.e. misspellings and grammatical mistakes) for part one and two as best as I could, but for the life of me, I see one every time I re-read them. So please point out anything wrong and I'll correct it when I can.

EDIT 5/30/2012: I have made some changes to this chapter from review suggestions. I'd like to thank DeusExfreak for his time and the immense help he has provided. Also, I changed the town Bronze Scale is in from Chorrol to Bravil due to happenings in later chapters. I apologize for this oversight on my part, but it will make sense later on.

Enjoy :)

Part II: Add a Little Fire...

Far to the northwest from Black Marsh, a young female Argonian is chasing a frog in the streets of Bravil. Being an orphan and an Argonian is not a good thing, even the orphanages turn their noses. It wasn't that bad, though, for she had a little trick with fire. She just points her bronze finger at whatever and it catches fire when she concetrates hard enough on it on it. This little trick has gotten her into trouble more often then not even though she mostly used it help keep hunger at bay.

She didn't understand how such a fat frog could hop away so fast. Every time she was about to pounce on it, it managed to elude her grasp. She chased it between buildings and down ally ways, rags flapping in the afternoon breeze. She had finally gotten it cornered in a dead-end back alley when she felt the rough hands grab her around the throat and pick her up.

"What have we here?" slurred a gruff voice from behind her. It was quite obvious he was drunk.

Grasping at the strong hand, the youngling managed to turn her head to the side and get a good look at a tall dark haired Imperial that smelled of old sweat and beer. He was clad in some dingy leather tunic that looked as if it hadn't been cleaned in months. His shaggy hair and beard made him look pretty scary to the young Argonian lass.

"Please let me go, I wasn't doing anything!" squeaked the youngling, clawing at his iron grip.

"It looked like to me you were going to take that frog that's on my property! I consider that stealing. I'm gonna have to teach you a lesson, little lizard!" He smackes her upside the head, hard.

"Please don't sir! I promise I'll leave the frog alone and leave. Just let me go!" she whimpers.

He smacks her again, even harder. Then turns her to face him, still flailing about in the air.

"That's not enough. How do I know you won't come back and try to steal from me again?" She blanched at the foul stench that erupted from his mouth.

This time he balls up his fist and punches her in the stomach. She grimaced and did the only thing she could think of. She reaches out to him with a free hand, which is barely half his arm's length, pointes at his chest and focuses her thoughts. A small flame poofs into being upon the really dry leather on his chest. It didn't look like it would do much till the man looks down in suprise, which he shouldn't have because when he did his beard moved down into the flame and instantly caught fire. He gives a loud yell in suprise and lets go of the youngling to quickly pat out the flames, but it isn't enough. It had spread up his beard and into his long matted hair. Soon his entire head is on fire. He starts to run furiously around the alleyway, bumping into barrels and crates, smacking at his head to no avail. The youngling scrambles back till she couldn't go any further, stuck in the dead-end ally with the man whose head was on fire blocking her only escape. The smell of burning hair and flesh was starting to nausiate her. Between that and the fear that knotted her gut, she started to heave, but didn't have anything in her stomach to throw up.

Then she noticed a hooded figure in brown robes behind the man. Someone must have come to investigate the source of the screams. There was a flash of blue light and a wave of cold hit her. She covers her face in her hands in fright at the light. The bad man, the fire on his head now extinguished, promptly falls forward onto the ground and stops moving. She peaks out from behind her hands and the first thing she saw was the blackened flesh of the man's face, which had been burnt to a crisp. Blood was oozing out of the red cracks that opened up when his head hit the ground. It starts to form a pool in between the cobblestones under his face. The sight of the blood and cracked skin caused the nausea to boil up again and the last thing she remembers seeing is the robed figure kneeling and waving a glowing hand over the man.

* * *

Bronze Scale awakens to find herself in a warm bed inside of a small room. Sunlight from the setting sun streamed through a stained glass window above the bed illuminating the room with varied colors. On the left wall, opposite the bed, stood a line of dark wooden bookshelves crammed full of books and papers. In the center of the room sat a simple wooden table with two padded chairs nearby. A metal pitcher sat on top of the table accompanied by two clay cups.

At the foot of the bed was a long wooden table with papers, an ink well with a pen sitting in it, and an odd assortmant of small trinkets, gems and figurines. Bronze Scale couldn't help but stare at the trinkets. They looked so pretty and intriguing. Her attention was torn from it when the door opens and a purple robed figure steps into the room, whose face, for the most part, is hidden by a hood. A scaley snout protruding out from the hood is the only thing visable. Bronze Scale backs away in fear into the corner of the bed.

"It's ok child, there is no need to fear. You are welcome here." says the figure in a soothing voice. Emerald hands reach up to pull back the hood, revealing a skinny, light green face with bright sky-blue stripes running up the sides of the nose and swept back along the top eyeridges. Dark-orange fins ran from her earholes to the back of her head. What was most striking where the blue eyes that looked like they could pierce a steel door, but the look the shown was that of a motherly figure.

"My name is Narskinna. I am a mage at the Mages Guild of Bravil. What is your name?" says in a comforting voice. She walks to the foot of the bed, leaving enough distance between her and the youngling to show she wasn't as foreboding as the little one obviously thought she was.

"My name?" Bronze Scale looks down. "I don't have a name yet. My..." she hesitates "...mother was taking me to Black Marsh to allow me to have a proper naming ceremony at a Hist tree."

"Oh, and where were you traveling from? Where is your mother now?" asks the older Argonian, taking the padded chair and turning it towards the bed. She sits and clasps her hands in her lap as Bronze scale starts to talk.

"I don't know. All I do remember is always traveling with my mother. I don't know where we came from, but she always talked about going back to Black Marsh. One night, we were going to sleep and a loud crashing came from the woods. I couldn't see it, but my mother told me to run, to keep running and not turn back, and that she would catch up to me. So I ran. I ran as fast as I could into the night. When the crashing stopped I remember turning and seeing a bright flash of light, then silence. I kept on running till daylight out of fear. I stopped by a road sign to rest, and to wait for her." Tears well up in her amber eyes. "But she never came. I waited all day. She never came." She broke down into sobs.

Narskinna walks over to the bedside, sat down and pulled the youngling to her chest in a warm embrace.

"It's ok dear. I'm here." she says in a caring voice, patting the back of Bronze Scale's head. "What happened next? How did you get here?"

Taking a deep breath, the child presses on with her story. "It was about night time when a carriage rolled by, driven by a farmer. He was kind and allowed me to ride to the nearest town, which happened to be Bravil. We arrived sometime in the morning. The kind farmer tried to drop me off at the orphanage. He said he couldn't afford to help me any more and left with a sad look on his face. Once he had left, the orphanage owner told me to leave. He wouldn't give a reason, just told me to scat, or he'd make me leave. I've lost count of the days, but I've been here ever since. "

"I'm so sorry to hear that" says Narskinna sorrowfully. 'I'll have a talk with that man sometime soon' she thought to herself.

"It's ok though. I've been pretty good about taking care of myself. My mother..." she looks down for a second, a wave of sorrow passes over her. She finds her strength and looks back up "My mother taught me how to make fire out of nothing. She would sometimes use it to catch rabbits or birds for dinner. I use it to catch what I can around here to eat. Frogs are the easiest, and taste way better then bugs and rats" she says with a smile.

"Fire you say? Is that what happened to that man in the alley earlier today?" says Narskinna, her interest peaked. She gets up, leaving Bronze scale sitting on the bed. She walks over to the table in the middle of the room and pours water from the pitcher into the two cups.

"Yes. I do feel a little bit sorry for him 'cuz I was stealing a frog from him. But when he hit me, I got mad and just did the only thing I could think of. I hope he's ok." Narskinna walks back to the bed and hands the youngling a cup, who takes a sip of the cool liquid. Narskinna sits in her chair again and takes a sip from her cup as well.

"He'll live. A fellow mage who happened to pass by the alley heard the screaming and rushed in. He used a mild frost spell to put out the flames. He then healed the man as best he could, then called some guards to help carry you two back here. After more healing, he was found to be a drunken squatter who harrassed anyone who walked by 'his' alley. It seems he took it too far today. Once the healing was done, the guards took him away. He won't be bothering anyone for a while now. I think he will be afraid of candles and torches from now on." smirks Narskinna.

Bronze Scale giggles, feeling a little better. Narskinna thinks for a few moments while Bronze Scale finishes her cup of water.

"I'm going to go talk to someone now. Feel free to have more water. I'll get you something to eat soon, when I'm done. I ask that you stay in this room, for wandering about a place of magic can be a bit dangerous sometimes."

Narskinna walks to the door. She looks back and smiles warmly at the youngling and leaves.

* * *

After closing the door behind, Narskinna turns down the hall and walks briskly to the main meeting chamber at the end. A brown robed Imperial with short hair that is white as snow and a goatee to match stands up from reading a leatherbound tome at the large wooden table in the front of the room and greets her. The if it weren't for the white hair, he would have appeared to be in his late 30's, for he had no age lines whatsoever on his face. His brown eyes, however, held the look of someone who has seen a lot in his lifetime.

"So, what do you think?" he asks, stroking his goatee.

Narskinna approaches the table and crosses her arms, then reaches up and touches her brow in thought.

"Well, she definatley set that man on fire. Thank goodness you were there in time to save him, Guildmaster."

"Indeed. You think she might be one with the way of magic?"

"Can't tell for now, though, from what she has told me, her mother might have been a magic user, bless her spirit. She didn't say anything of a father. There is promise."

"What is her name?"

"She doesn't have one yet. Her mother was trying to take her back to Black Marsh to have it done properly, but they were ambushed by something in the woods one night. I don't think the mother survived. I may have a way to honor her wishes."

"Hmm, I am aware of some Argonian customs, though in no great detail. I trust you will handle it then?"

"I don't think we will be able to do the naming ceremony properly, since it would have to entail heading to Black Marsh, and you know that I cannot go back there. But, I will just have to do it a differant way. It is possible. So I take it you are accepting her into the guild?"

"Sort of, she won't be a full member till she has had proper training at a college, but for now, she will be your apprentice till she is old enough to attend."

"Yes Guildmaster. I have to attend to her now." She turns to leave, remembering that the youngling was probably starving.

As she nears the arch leading to the hallway, Narskinna turns her head and says "And Guildmaster, I would like to thank you for bringing her straight to me. I don't think she would have been as comfortable around anyone else but another Argonian, considering what that man did to her."

"Teach her well, and we'll see how she turns out."


	3. Part III: How to Make a Name

A/N: Part 3 is finished. Enjoy.

Part III: How to Make a Name

"I don't think this is a good idea" Green Scale says to Black Scale.

"Eh, we'll be back in time for the ceremony with plenty of time to spare. Besides, I just want to get a look at it." replies Black Scale.

Looming before the two, the cave mouth rose up like a shrouded maw, cold and dark. A tree had fallen across the top of the entrance some time ago, it's mossy limbs draping over the opening like a green curtain, blocking any sunlight from penetrating very far. Black Scale had overheard some fishermen the previous night say that this might be the cave where the beast that has been destroying their fish traps is hiding. It wasn't a whole lot of information, but it was enough to catch the the youngling's attention. Black Scale had awoken when the sky was just starting to lighten and had snuck out and woken up his nest mate to get an early start to their 'adventure'. It had taken them a little longer then they had thought to find the cave, but once they did, they were sure it was the right one. He had also heard the fishermen mention that the hunters would track down the beast later in the day and slay it to prevent any more fish traps from being destroyed. Black Scale insisted on being there first to see the beast.

"We better make this quick, we shouldn't be late to our naming ceremony at noon-sun." says Green Scale, checking the location of the morning sun through the marsh canopy.

"Oh, is the nasty beasty inside making you afraid?" laughs Black Scale, striding forward in mock bravery.

"I'm not afraid!" he takes off running for the cave past Black Scale. "Beat you inside!"

"No you won't!"

They both run into the cave (not noticing the thin clawed tracks near the entrance). Green Scale kids to a halt once it got too dark to see and Black Scale runs into the back of him, hard. They both tumble into the darkness. They help each other up and crouch in the darkness, listening. They can here the far off patter of water dripping onto rock echoing through the cave. A slight breeze moved along the floor through the mud and rocks. Other then that, all was silent and as dark as midnight.

"Hold on, let's find the way back, just to be safe." whispers Green Scale.

"Ya, you go do that." Black Scale rolls his eyes, even though Green Scale couldn't see it.

Green Scale moves away, feeling with his hands and feet, till he finds a wall and follows it back the way they came. Black Scale, gulping down the slight fear in his stomach, turns and goes further into the cave. After going forward a little ways, he begins to see a slight glow in the distance. He creeps towards it as silently as he could in the muddy floor. All of a sudden a sharp pain pierces the underside his bare right foot. He hops up with a gasp, clutching his foot with one hand while bracing himself against the wall with the other. After the pain subsided some, he slowly put his foot down again and tries to feel though the mud for what he had stepped on. He soon felt something spiny touch his foot. He reaches down into the mud with his free hand, finds the object, and pulls it up to his face inspect it. Using what little light from the glow ahead he sees he is holding a fish skeleton, about a foot long, stripped of all flesh, and covered in mud. It's head looked like it had been gnawed on by something with large teeth, for a corner of the skull had been bitten clean off behind the eye socket, probably to get at the soft brain tissue. After tossing the fish skeleton to it's muddy grave again, Black Scale presses on towards the light, moving slowly and using his feet to avoid any more painful mishaps. He bumps into many more bones, some of which felt larger then those of a fish.

Creeping closer to the light, Black Scale rounds a bend in the tunnel to find it widening into a small cavern. The light source was from sunlight streaming through a small hole in the roof off to one side. Water was dripping down from the hole and landing on a rocky outcropping which jutted out from the nearby corner. A pool of muddy water had formed at the base of the outcropping, reflecting the light throughout the small room. Black Scale noticed some movement off to the far side near some roots hanging down from the ceiling, cloaking the corner in shadows. He freezes, staring where he thought he saw a shape. Something suddenly grabbed his naked shoulder from behind and he yelps, turning and swinging a fist at the same time. He hit something fleshy and heard it hit the wall, hard, releasing him.

"Ow! Why'd you go and do that" yells Green Skin loudly, rubbing his head and moaning.

Black Skin hisses at his companion to be quiet and turns back to the cavern in time to see a pair of eyes shining out at him from behind the roots, then another pair blink into existence right next to it. A shrieking hiss echos through the cave system. The roots rattled and a half eaten juvanile alligator rolls out into the mud, leaving a slimy pink path of entrails up to the dark corner with the eyes.

"RUN!" yells Black Scale.

He grabs his friend off the ground and takes off through the cave, with Green Scale's arm clenched in an iron grip, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain as bones splintered beneath his feet. Once they hit the pure darkness again, he slows down, panting.

"Which...way?" he says between gasps.

A series of clicking nails on rocks and another piercing shriek echo through the cave from where they had come. The noises did not sound too far behind.

"This way!" stammers Green Scale.

He grabs Black Scale's arm and sprints into the darkness. Jumping over the rocks and debris in the mud. Black Scale was having no such luck, stumbling over every object in the path large enough to catch his feet. They finally burst out of the cave into warm sunlight, gasping for air. Black Scale doubled over, one hand at his waist, the other hand clutching his right knee, which had a scrape on it from a rock on the way out. A little blood had made a trail to the bottom of his knee and was dripping down to the marsh grass. They both look quickly towards the cave mouth as the noise of the beasts scrambling over rocks came closer. The two younglings dive behind a nearby rock as a blur of brown fur and darted out of the cave mouth.

The large marsh rat abruptly stops and blinks it's bulging black eyes in the sunlight, slightly dazed. It stood a good two and a half feet tall at the shoulders. It was as long as the younglings were tall, not counting the scabby pink tail dragging behind it. Another rat runs out of the cave, this one slightly smaller then the first. It too stops and blinks. The larger rat's eyes finally adjust to the sunlight after a few seconds and it stands up on its hind legs and sniffs the air. Immediatly it's dagger-like nose pointed towards the rock they were hiding behind and it lets out another shriek.

The smaller rat bounds towards the rock.

Black Scale looks down and see's a jagged rock a about half a foot long sticking out of the mud. He picks it up and glances up in time to see a whiskered snout with yellow teeth, frothing with crimson spittle from it's interrupted meal, appear over their hiding place. Green Scale jumps up and runs behind the nearest tree, a thin cypress, and begins climbing as fast as he can. Seeing him first, the rat on top of the rock bunches itself up, getting ready to pounce, not noticing the other youngling underneath it. Black Scale coils his legs and thrusts the jagged rock straight up, putting full force into the jab. The rock hits the oversized rodent in the inside of it's jawbone and veers into the soft spot underneath, piecing up into it's skull. The rat falls onto Black Scale, thrashing wildly, hot blood spewing out of the wound with each gurgle of breath it tries to take in. Black Scale struggles hard to detangle himself but is blinded by fur and blood in his eyes. He starts to gag at the rancid smell of the beast.

The larger rat, coming around the side of the rock, sees it's partner, it's movements starting to slow, on the ground, but not the youngling trapped underneath it. Bewildered at what became of it's mate, it scuttles over. Green Scale, who had managed to make it up the tree a little ways to the nearest branches, sees the large rodent moving towards his stuck nest mate below. He snaps off a thick branch and chucks it as hard as he could, end over end. It hits the rat square in the side of the head. With a chattering hiss it darts to the bottom of the tree and starts to scramble up the rough bark, claws scoring deep marks in the wood. Looking around for something to throw at it without success, Green Scale starts to panic. The only thought in his head was 'Well this was definitely a bad idea...' The rat, who was blocking his only way of escape, was quickly making it's way up the tree. He starts to climb higher, but in his haste he grabs a branch higher up that wasn't as sturdy as he originally thought. It gave way when he put his weight onto it to pull himself up and he crashes down, falling past the giant rat. He lands on his upper back with his feet towards the tree on the somewhat soft marsh ground, knocking the wind out of his lungs and causing his head to throb. The branch that he had tried to climb upon landed painfully on his stomach a few moments later.

The rat, sensing the kill was close at hand, unlatches itself from the tree and launches itself out into the air to land on it's prey. Green scale opens his eyes and for a split second that seems like eternity, sees a giant flying rat. He starts to grin at the absurdity of the sight. Then the horror of the situation collides with him when he sees the intent in it's eyes and he instinctivly grabs the broken branch on him and points the jagged broken end up into the air. The rat lands on the branch, driving it into its abdomen. The sudden weight on the stick, coupled with the blood rushing down it causes it to slip out of Green Scale's hands. The other end of the branch sticks into the ground and the rat's own momentum carries it over the youngling. It comes crashing down behind him in a bloody heap. The rat, still alive, lets out a feral growl and tries in vain to stand up, but is impeded from the branch stuck in it's gut. All it was doing was opening up the wound more and letting it's pink innards spill out. Green Scale rolls over and is about to get up and run. But his eyes grow wide in suprise when Black Scale, who had finally extricated himself from the smaller rat, flew onto the larger rats back and starts feverishly bashing at it's head with a blunt rock he found nearby, yelling furiously. After a what seems like a long time of repeated blows, Black Scale lets out a loud hiss and picks up the rock as high as he could and brings it down upon the rodents head with a final resounding crunch. The rat gives a shudder, let's out one last raspy groan, and stops moving, it's skull finally cracked open. Dropping the bloody stone, Black Scale shakily slides off the beast and stumbles over to Green Scale, who hadn't moved from where he fell and was sitting up massaging his head. Black scale collapses onto the ground and looks back at the two dead rodents with his nest mate.

Green Scale starts to giggle. Black Scale looks over at him and bursts out laughing. They both whoop and holler into the sky, laughing till their sore sides hurt even more. They both sprawl on the ground holding their sides, still giggling. Green Scale ubruplty sits up, a wild look in his eyes.

"Oh no! It's almost noon-sun!" he says pointing at the sun overhead.

They both get up, but Black Scale winces, grabbing his scraped knee which he had all but forgotten about from the rush of the fight. The bleeding had stopped, but it hurt whenever he tried to bend it. Green Scale gives him a worried look, but Black Scale just shrugs and stands up straight, blinking back tears. He squats back down, then stands up again, stretching out the knee. The pain began to lessen, but doesn't go away completely. It wasn't his first minor injury.

"I'll live, let's go!"

They both sprint off into the woods towards home.


	4. Part IV: Meeting the Family

Part IV: Meeting the Family

Bronze Scale sits up straight in the bed she was in. Where was she? Blinking sleep from her eyes, she looks around the small room. Dim light from the approaching dawn was creeping in from the small, clear window opposite her bed. Upon recognizing her surroundings, she remembered how she had gotten there.

The night before, the Argonian mage, Narskinna, had brought some dinner the night before and explained to the youngling that she was going to be her apprentice, and that she would teach her the basics about her gift and how to make it grow. Afterwards, she was brought down to the second floor of the Guild Hall and shown her new room and givin some clothes that she could wear.

Sitting up in bed and glancing around her room, Bronze Scale smiles and silently thanks the Nine for this blessing. She had never dreamed of being taught magic, let alone stepping into a Mages Guild. Narskinna had told her some of the things she would be able to do with her training, like throwing balls of fire, summoning spirits, and turning invisable. She got giddy just thinking about it. Narskinna had also told her the dangers of using magic, about how a spell could turn upon the caster who's not properly trained, causing great harm or even death.

She climbs slowly out of bed and stretches, reaching high as she could with her arms and tail arching up. Stifling a yawn she shuffles over to the table in the middle of the room and pours herself a cup of cool water. While good, that first drink also brought on the unfortunate side effect of making her need to release her morning water, and she had no clue where she would do that in the building. After hastely changing out of her night clothes and into a set of small pale blue robes and black leather shoes she found in a wardrobe near the wall opposite her bed, Bronze Scale walks stiffly towards her door and opens it a crack. She sticks her head out and doesn't see anyone in the hallway. She steps out and turns right and starts walking quietly, trying not to wet herself. She wishes she is outside right now, where she could go wherever she needed to.

At the end of the hall is a balcony overlooking the main entrance below. A long grey sofa sits along the back wall parallel to the banister with an ornate table in the middle of the floor. Bronze scale daintily steps down from the step into the hallway and glances towards the stairs leading up to the third floor that are on the opposite side of the balcony. She could faintly hear voices and the clanging of metal on metal, not from above, but from below. She peers down the stairwell to her right and sees a silver haired high elf in black and gold robes standing near the main entrance, reading a large scroll. He gazes up at her with bright, almost white, silver eyes the moment she had seen him. A cold shiver runs down her spine. The harsh look on his thin face almost made her loose her water right there. He gives a little smirk at the fearful look in her eyes then goes back to reading his scroll.

At that moment a Bosmer female in purple robes appears at the base of the steps leading up to the third floor and sees the young Argonian with a strained look on her face.

"What's wrong child?" she asks with a quizzical look.

Startled, Bronze Scale looks over and her eyes go wide with suprise at the large amount of wild red hair outlining the short elf's pale slender face. It looked like the mane of some kind of jungle cat. A single braid that ran over the pointed right ear and intertwined with some small blue beads just below her chin was the only part that looked groomed. Bronze Scale just stood there staring with her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, not even thinking to reply. She had never seen so much hair on such a small person.

The Bosmer looks over the balcony and sees the tall brooding elf down below, still absorbed in his scroll.

"Oh I see. That's Thalinae, a Thalmor ambassador. Don't be afraid of him. He's only here temporarily on business. He may look like a meanie, but he really isn't." She looks back at Bronze Scale standing there, speechless. "Oh where are my manners? My name is Shaywen. It's nice to finally meet our new in-house apprentice. What might be your name, sweetie?"

"My... I... I don't have a name" stammers Bronze Scale, finally finding her voice.

Shaywen gives her a quizzical look "Well, now that's strange, never met anybody with no name. Well, in that case, are you hungry Miss No-Name?"

"Actually, I have to...uhhh..." She clutches her stomach and hops on one foot, tail curling at the tip in anxiety.

"OH... I see... down the stairs, straight back, door at the end of the hallway is the latrine."

"Thanks!"

Bronze Scale takes off down the stairs, past the Thalmor who looks up for a second with a scowl as she zips past him. She heads down the short hallway till she reaches the hall to the door at the end and enters, closing the door behind her with a snap in her haste. As soon as she was done with her business, she steps out and closes the door. She turns around to see black and gold embroidery in her face. She looks up into the cold eyes of Thalinae as he scans her up and down. The need to release her water came up again, even though she just went.

"What do we have here?" he says in an cold, drawling voice. "A young Argonian who thinks she can be a mage? And to why is that?"

"I..." the frightened youngling stammers.

"Speak up. What is your purpose here?" his voice getting even icier.

"What is going on here?" says Narskinna striding down the hall from the entrance room.

Bronze Scale bolts past the tall elf as he turns to look back and darts behind Narskinna, then peaks out at the dark figure standing at the latrine door.

"Oh, I was just having a nice chat with your new apprentice. Just being curious, that's all" he says through a very fake smile.

"I don't think the agreement with our guild allows you to interrogate young lasses coming out of the latrine, ser. I believe the Guild Master wants to see you in his study now." she says with an icy hiss.

"In that case, I have some business to attend to. Ladies." he bows at the hip, keeping his head up and settling his piercing gaze upon Bronze Scale for a few moments, that fake smile never leaving his thin lips, then looks at Narskinna again as he stands straight. He gives a slight nod and walks past them both. Narskinna turns to keep in between him and the youngling hiding next to her tail. He disappears up the stairs near the front door.

After making sure he was out of site, Narskinna turns to Bronze Scale, "I don't want you to ever talk to that elf again. Nor any Thalmor for that matter. Something isn't right with them. You will learn more of them in your studies later on, but for now let us go get something to eat before the day starts."

She takes a hold of Bronze Scales slender hand and leads her down the hall to the entry way. Then takes a left into the mess hall. It was a medium sized room with five short wooden tables with benches arranged into a 'U' shape around a center counter made up of three heavy iron tables. The three iron tables were set in a smaller 'U' shape in front of a door where some humming and banging of metal could be heard escaping into the room. An Imperial and a Breton, both clad in green robes were sitting at a table farthest from the door and seemed to be having a heated, albeit quiet, discussion.

"Cook! You got a a couple hungry individuals out here!" shouts Narskinna to the door.

"Ah! Just in time!" exclaims a tall, broad shouldered Orc as he steps out from the doorway and stands behind the counter, wiping his big olive green hands on a slightly stained white apron at his waist. He laughs jovially, short tusks bouncing up and down, "And what do we have here? Is this our new friend, Narskinna?"

"Yes, she is my new apprentice. She has no name as of yet. But by the morn she will have one." she replies.

"Ah, I see." He steps around the counter and kneels, offering a big hand to the little argonian. "My name is Shoga Kin'ra, little miss, but my friends call me 'Cook' because I like to cook...well anything! You may call me 'Cook', too." He says with a smile. "What would you like to have for breakfast now? I have eggs, venison, beef, pork, fruits, vegetables..." he scratches his short, black hair in thought "and beans, lots of beans!"

"Nice to meet you, Cook" Bronze Scale says, taking his hand and shaking it, giggling. "I'd like some eggs and pork please, and thank you!"

"And you, Narskinna, what will you have this fine morning?" Cook says looking up at her from Bronze Scales smiling face.

"Oh the usual, cooked beef strips, a little rare." replies Narskinna, taking a seat at the table directly in front of the counter.

Standing up with a warm grin, the Orc bows, then turns and heads back through the door behind the iron countersand motions for Bronze Scale to take a seat next to her. As she takes a seat, she overhears some of what the Imperial and Breton where talking about near the back wall.

"I tell you, I don't trust that Thalmor elf!" says the Imperial in a hushed tone.

"I don't either. They have no business sending an 'ambassador' into our midst. I don't even know why he is here. The other day he, out of the blue, comes up to me and starts drilling me with questions of what I do here and what I believe in. I swear I felt like I was in an interrogation room." says the Breton, equally as quiet.

Bronze Scales attention was broken when Cook re-emerged from his door behind the counter with many wooden bowls stacked in each hand and balanced precariously up each arm. He had donned a leather belt around his waist with a large assortment of cooking utensils from butcher knives to tongs. He somehow manages to set down each bowl, without dropping anything, on the iron table to his left.

"And now, I present to you" he said, focusing on Bronze Scale with a smile "your meal!"

He holds his right hand over the front iron table and squints his eyes. Flames burst from his palm and and beat down upon the metal surface. When it was bright red, he dowses the flames and reaches for one bowl with his other hand and pulls out a handful of fat and runs it up and down the surface, a sizzling hiss arose with each pass. Once the table top was good and greased, he drops the leftover fat into bucket near his feet. He picks up another bowl and turns it over as the redness of the hot metal dissappears, pork strips drop out and land in on the slick surface, sizzling in the heat. He sets the bowl off to the side and picks up another with his right hand and tips it over to drop the strips of beef next to the pork. Humming an adventurous tune, he pulls an iron spatula and a knife out of his belt and flips each behind his back and catches them expertly by the handles and proceeds to chop and turn the pieces of meat for a few minutes. He moves each pile of meat off to the side once they were reduced to chunks and strips to finish simmering, making sure to keep the beef and pork seperated.

Setting the knife aside and flipping the spatula end over end and catching it neatly by the handle in his right hand, he reaches for yet another bowl with his left hand and retrieves two chicken eggs from yet another bowl and, holding both in his large palm, squeezes them both till they explode in his grip, the yolk dropping to the hot surface while the shells remain in his green hand. He drops the empty shells into a bucket near his boot, then wipes his hand on his apron He begins to scrambles the eggs together with the spatula, smacking the metal table top with it to add notes to his humming. He stops abruptly and sets the spatula down on the left table and reaches for two bowls, one with each hand. He pulls out a pinch of pepper from one, and a piece of rock salt with the other. While sprinkling the pepper onto the eggs with one hand, he brings the salt rock close to his eye and examines it closely.

"Eh, not that good" He says in between humm verses. He throws the not-so-good piece of rock salt into the bucket on the floor and grabs another with his left hand as he stoops a little and reaches under the front table with his right hand and shoots another bout of flames up, heating up the counter top again.

"Aha! This one is perfect!" he exclaims, withdrawing his right hand and standing straight. Picking up with his humming again, he pinches the rock salt between his forefinger and thumb, crushing it, over the cooking eggs and sprinkling the powdered salt into the yellow mixture and proceeds to mix the salt and pepper into the eggs with the spatula.

Eyeing the beef strips and seeing how cooked they were, he scoops them up with the spatula and deposits them into an empty bowl and slides the spatula into it's place at his belt. He grabs another pinch of pepper and sprinkles it on the sizzling meat as he walks around the table and offers it to Narskinna along with a fork from his belt. He glances at Bronze Scale out of the side of his eye, her eyes wide and a glowing smile upon her face at what she was seeing.

"Here is your breakfast, ma'am." he says with a curt bow. He turns to Bronze Scale, "Your's will be ready shortly, little miss" he says with a big smile.

"Thank you, Cook." says Narskinna smiling, taking the bowl and fork and setting them on the table. She begins to eat slowly, blowing on the hot strips to cool them down.

Cook nods then walks back behind the counters and takes out his spatula again and scoops the eggs and pork chunks into another empty bowl. He brings it up to his face and takes in a deep breath. A slight frown cascades across his face and he brings up his other hand and hovers it over the bowl. He squints and a little poof of cold whiteness goes out over the bowl. He brings the bowl up to his face again and inhales, then smiles. He adds another pinch of pepper to the pork as He walks over to the two Argonians' table and, after pulling another fork out of his belt, offers it to Bronze Scale.

"Your breakfast, little miss" he says with a bow and a smile, holding out the dish. She take it from his hand and sets it down on the table. While stiffling another giggle she says, "Thank you, ser Cook."

"No, thank you milady." He says with a grin as he turns back to the tables and begins to clear away the leftover dishes and and bits of leftover food. He holds out a hand over the front table and a wave of cold beats down on it, cooling it. He quickly wipes down the tables with a wet rag till they are spotless. He disappears into his back room and the sounds of dishes being washed and humming began to drift out.

Bronze Scale takes a bite of the eggs. It was the most wonderful tasting food she had ever had in her life. Narskinna watched as the youngling scarfs down half of the food in a few seconds. "You shouldn't eat so fast, little one." she added in a sage-like voice. "The taste of good food does not last forever."

Coughing a little, Bronze Scale slows down. The tasty eggs and pork chunks were so much more satisfying then anything she had ever had in her life.

"Enough of this! Not here." the Imperial man says loudly, standing up and pulling his hood over his slicked back blonde hair. "I have to take care of some things." He leaves quickly, offering a curt nod and quick smile to Narskinna and Bronze Scale. His Breton companion stands and walks over to the two and sits down next to them with a sigh. He runs his thick hands through his wavy brown hair.

"What's wrong with Victor, Hans? I've never seen him this upset." Says Narskinna after swallowing a mouthfull of beef.

"Bah, he's just being paranoid with that Thalmor elf that's here. I don't like the guy either, to tell you the truth, but it's nothing to go crazy over. He'll be gone soon enough." He glances over at Bronze Scale and smiles warmly, "Is this the one who tried turning a man into a human match stick yesterday?"

Bronze Scale nods and looks down at her bowl, a sheepish smile on her face.

"Yes she is" replies Narskinna, "I hope it wasn't a problem for your healing abilities."

"No problem for the most part. Skin heals easily, but there are still some injuries that can't be healed." he said, pointing at his ruddy brown eyes while Bronze scale wasn't looking.

"I see," says Narskinna, nodding. "I have to ask a favor of you Hans. I need to take care of something really important today. I would like it if you would take our little friend here to the study room and show her some what she some of the books she'll be learning from. It's only for today. I'll be back by sunset to take her off your hands." She finishes the last bite of her beef strips and pushes the bowl to the middle of the table.

"I'd be delighted to. I'll show her some of the texts on the history of the Empire. You do know how to read, right?" he says, looking at Bronze Scale.

"A little. My mother taught me some words, but not a whole lot." She says, shaking her head.

"Well then, I guess the first lesson of the day would be to teach you how to read better."

Once Bronze Scale swallowed the last bit of eggs and pork chunks they stand and move to depart the mess hall. Cook comes out of his back room and picks up the empty bowls. "Good-bye!" he hollers as he steps back into his back room.

At the front entry room Hans taps Narskinna on the shoulder. "By the way, what is her name? I forgot to ask."

"She doesn't have one yet. She'll have one tomorrow though." She says to him in an off-hand way. Hans opens his mouth to inquire further, but Narskinna shoots him a stern look and he clamps his mouth shut, understanding he was treading into forbidden territory. Narskinna turns and puts her hands on Bronze Scale's slender shoulders, "Stay out of trouble and listen to Hans, he is a good teacher." She grasps a large bronze doorknob and gives it a slight turn, then exits through the large ornate wooden door.

Hans leads Bronze Scale up to the third floor study room and begins collecting leather bound tomes off the shelves.

"Now, where to begin..."


	5. Part V: The Ceremony

Part V: The Ceremony

The two young males race along the soft marsh trail. Seeing a clear pool close by the trail they stop only long enough to wash off the blood and mud caked to their bodies from the fight with the rats. Black Scale hastily dabs a small layer of dark mud on his ebony knee to try and hide the scrape. Their parents would be pretty mad if they knew what the younglings had done.

Hopping back onto the trail again, they both take off running again, green and black scales glistening in the noon sun. Their flight spooks up a small herd of swamp deer grazing nearby, causing them to take off into the marsh woods in fright. Black Scale is clutching his sides and breathing heavily, barely able to keep up with his green nest-mate, who didn't even look winded.

They finally arrive at their village. A small crowd has gathered near the central fire pit, now devoid of any flame. They two younglings edge their way through the crowd, bumping elbows, stepping on tails, and getting a few angry hisses from the owners. Finally making it to the front of the crowd they see the old, teal scaled Seer standing next to the fire pit talking to three other younglings. He is wearing his ceremonial kilt with colorful feathers and beads stiched into it in the shape of a tree. His headress was made up of an alligator skull, painted blue with orange stripes, and had large bird feathers, also dyed blue, sticking up along the back. The only thing on his pale blue torso is the strap of a leather satchel across his chest, it's contents unknown. In one hand he carries a wooden staff as tall as he is. It's simple design is more for his old age then a ceremonial instrument.

He turns as he sees the two strutting towards him. "Ah, you made it. We can begin now." He starts to lead the five younglings away. Green Scale and Black Scale see their parents in the crowd as they start to walk off and they give them slight nods and sheepish grins. Sta-Sansa was glaring at them with a look of "Where were you two!" written all over it and her hands on her hips. Hie-Ingra gave the two a wave and offered a silent "Be safe" as they walk past. The sounds of the crowd diminish as they near the edge of the town and everyone was done with their 'Good-Byes' and 'Good Lucks.'

* * *

The Seer leads the group into out of the village and along a wooded path. The younglings follow along behind him in single file, like a line of ducklings following their mother. No one utters a word as they proceed through the marsh.

They eventually arrive at the great Hist tree. It looms up into the sky, dwarfing any other tree in the swamp. Branches as big around as cattle go all the way from about a dozen feet off the ground all the way up to the very top, which is invisable when standing so close to the tree. Moss and giant lichens hang from the heavy bows in curtains and stick to the trunk like a shaggy coat of greens and browns. The tops of huge roots rise up many feet into the air above the soil, creating little alcoves in the areas where they thrust out from the trunk. The Seer leads the group into one such crevice. The roots encircling this area bear the marks of countless generations of Argonian younglings who had their naming ceremony here. At the back of the alcove, where the two roots joined together, a fountain of sap had poured out and hardened into a solid amber waterfall, draping to the ground.

"I need each of you to go and collect a single stick, as tall as you are and bring it to me. Make sure it is dry." says the Seer to the younglings behind him, his voice flat. As the children run off he walks over to a small fire pit near the sap flow and lays down his staff and satchel off to the side near a giant root. He puts a hand to the trunk of the tree near the flow and closes his eyes. 'It is time' he thinks to himself. A familiar feeling creeps into the back of his thoughts. He turns and pulls out five thin pads of leather out of his satchel and lay them on the ground around the fire pit. He turns as Black Scale and Green Scale walk up to him, the first to return. They each hand him their sticks which he takes and snaps up into small pieces and toss them into the fire pit. Soon the other three, a dark tan and a light orange, both males, followed closely by a green female, show up and they each hand over their sticks. After snapping up the remaining sticks and tossing the wood in the fire pit, the Seer holds a hand out over the pit and a gush of flames sluices out, igniting the dry wood.

"Sit" he says to the younglings staring in awe at what he had done with the fire. He points with a wrinkly hand to the leather pads around the fire, then walks over and stands in front of the sap flow. "You will now embark on a journey to find your name and to make you one with the Hist. It will be frightfull and painful, I'm afraid, but in the end you will be stronger then you are now." he says in a low voice as the younglings sit down on the pads. The Seer turns and breaks off a hand sized portion of crystallized sap and walks to each youngling, holding out his hand, showing them the chunk. "To start the journey, you must imbibe the sap of the Hist tree. Let it enter you and guide you to your destination. A simple lick will suffice."

The Seer hands the chunk to Black Scale, who snakes his tongue out and takes a lick. It burns his toungue and throat as he swallows, leaving a tangy, earthy after taste in his mouth. He hands the chunk of sap to Green Scale on his right, who takes a lick. He immediatly scrunches his face up and he repeatedly licks his teeth and lips in an attempt to get the taste out of his mouth. As the sap is being passed around the Seer reaches into his satchel and withdraws a small leather pouch. He reaches in and pulls out some dried herbs and tosses them into the fire, causing a thick smoke to bellow out that gave off a powerfull spicy cinnamon smell.

Black Scale, who was staring at the fire waiting for something to happen, reaches up a hand to rub his head, which was beginning to ache from the smell of the thick smoke. He takes a look at his hand and sees it start to swim in front of his face. His eyes go wide and he looks around. Everything around him was beginning to swirl in odd ways. The only thing to not swirl was the Seer. Concentrating on the Seer, Black Scale squinted his eyes to see what he was doing. The seer was reaching into his satchel once more and withdrew something as long as his forearm.

It was an ornate ceremonial dagger. It's silver blade curved down from the pommel into a needle sharp point, not a blemish on it. Colorful feathers and small animal bones hung from the bottom of the leather bound handle. Black Scale began to grow afraid when his eyes locked onto the dagger. The seer reaches up to a root nearby and cuts away a small patch of bark and moss with the blade. Once an area of ivory wood could be seen, he cuts out small shards of it, about three inches long. He then reaches a hand up to the great tree and closes his eyes and mutters something. He turns to the younglings, a pale blue light shining out of his eyes like cold fire, his face blank of any emotion.

Black Scale grew even more afraid when he realized the Seer was looking at him. He tried to move, to say something, anything, but found that he could not. His body was frozen. He slumps over onto his back on the leather pad, the world swirling around him, the aching in his head intensified by the pungeunt smoke whaffing over his body. The Seer's glowing eyes appeared over him, the only solid thing in his view. In one hand he held the dagger. In the other he gripped a small handfull of white wooden shards from the Hist tree. He kneels next to the youngling and quickly inserts the tip of the dagger through the soft, black scales of his chest, in between the ribs just over his rapidly beating heart. Pain exploded into Black Scales little body, but he could not move or even scream. He could feel the blood run down his side when the dagger was quickly removed. The seer then sets the dagger next on the pad and pulls a wooden shard from his other hand. He inserts the shard of wood into the wound in between the rib bones, causing further eruptions of pain to echo around inside Black Scales chest. The Seer picks up the dagger and proceeds onto Green Scale, who had fallen back onto his mat in a similar fashion.

Black Scale felt the wooden shard start to pulsate within his chest. He immediatly found that he has regained the use of his limbs and clutches his chest. He glances down with tear filled eyes and sees the wound had quickly healed over beneath his black hands, but the pain was still there. He rolls over, still clutching his chest, and brings his shaking legs and tail up to his chin, the pain too great to even whimper. The swirling colors around him and the firey pain in his chest begin to take it's toll.

'you have great potential within you, child' whispers something in the back of his head, the pain in his head and chest starting to subside. 'your heart burns with a rage unlike many. use it. use it to protect yourself and those you don't want to lose to this dangerous world. use it. now sleep. sleep little Fury-Claw'

The world goes dark and Fury-Claw passes out as the pain in his chest spiked again.


	6. Part VI: Born in Flames

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long. Life's been pretty busy lately. I plan on jumping back in and cranking out a few more chapters soon. Happy reading!

**Part VI: Born in Flames**

Narskinna arrives back at the Mages guild as the sun begins to set, a small leather bag clutched to her chest containing two important vials. She opens the big door and enters into the main hall. Pulling back her hood and depositing the bag into a deep pocket of her purple robes, she heads up the two flights of stairs to the third floor study. She walks quietly into the room and sees two figures sitting opposite each other at a table covered in open books and papers with crudely drawn letters on them. She watches for a few minutes while she went over in her head what she was about to do in the coming night. Bronze Scale was drawing letters on a piece of paper with a thin piece charcoal wrapped tightly in cloth while Hans reviewed anything she passed his way. Her thin tongue was stuck out the front of her mouth with the purple tip curling a little as she concentrated on her current project.

"There you go. Just make sure to keep your hand steady. Don't worry, practice makes perfect." offers Hans as as he looks at her from across the table. He reaches a hand up to his round face and stifles a yawn. He glances around the room and spies Narskinna standing at the entrance, deep in thought. "Oh, didn't see you there Narskinna. We have been learning how to write letters. She sure is a quick learner. She'll be reading in writing in no time at this rate." He says with a grin. Bronze Scale looks up and flashes a toothy smile.

Snapped out of her reverie, Narskinna walks over to the teacher and student. "It is time. Come with me, child." she says in a slow, calm voice. She glances at Hans, "Thank you for watching over her while I was out." He gives a slight nod, looking into her eyes. He knew he wasn't getting any more information out of her, so he doesn't say anything.

Bronze Scale puts down the piece of charcoal and stands. She follows Narskinna out of the room. Hans leans back in his chair and scratches his neck, watching the two leave. 'Hmmm. She's a little withdrawn tonight. Haven't seen her like this in a long while. I wonder what it's all about...' he thinks to himself. He soon dismisses the thought. 'Well, everyone has secrets.'

* * *

Narskinna leads Bronze Scale downstairs and out the front door. They step outside just as the last bit of sunlight slowly fades beyond the horizon lighting up the slightly cloudy sky in a brilliant display of orange fire. A warm summer breeze gently moves through the streets as they join the the multiracial population of Bravil walking to and from the inner wall gate near the Temple of Mara. Once through the gate they walk along the street near the river into the residental expansion part of town that was built up over the last century.

They walk for a couple of blocks until they arrive at the outer wall gate. Narskinna does not say a thing the whole trip, leaving Bronze Scale to ponder where they were going. After looking around to see if anyone was following them, Narskinna turns right onto a smaller street down between two rows of simple single story houses, the ones on the left built up against the large outer stone wall that was built during the Aldmeri Invasion. They walk up to one such house halfway down the street. Instead of stopping at the front door, Narskinna walks around to the side and stops near a heavy wooden cellar door. Bronze Scale, even more questions popping into her head, keeps up. Narskinna takes one last look around and pulls a thin chain from around her neck. She takes the small key dangling from it and unlocks the celler door and lifts it open.

"Come little one. Soon, you will have your name." She says calmly turning to Bronze Scale and offers her a hand. Bronze Scale takes the hand and follows Narskinna down a small flight of stairs into darkness, all questions forgotten as a small amount of fear and excitement knot up her stomach. At the bottom the older Argonian opens another door and draws a candle from one of her pockets. She lets go of her charge's little hand and lights it with a small flick of her finger. Leaving the youngling standing near the door at the bottom of the stairs, she walks around the room, lighting other candles on the floor.

"What do you know of the Hist, young one?" she asks flatly without turning, still lighting candles.

"The Hist..." Bronze Scale pauses, going through her memories of what her mother had taught her, "The Hist unites us all and they are as old as the land itself. I don't know much else other then they live only in Black Marsh."

She looks around as Narskinna lights the last candle. The small room basked in the warm glow of a couple dozen lit candles around her. It was devoid of all furnishings except for a brown bear fur blanket positioned in the very middle of the floor. She notices that all the candles make a circle around this spot, only broken on one side as a path to the door.

Narskinna turns towards Bronze Scale, "We are all bound to the Hist. They give us strength as well as our names. They birthed our race to live in the harshest of lands. They guide us when the world seeks to claim what is ours. We in turn protect the Hist and worship them. It is a symbiotic relationship that has lasted for countless generations." She gestures towards the blanket on the floor. "Now sit, so we may continue."

As Bronze Scale situates herself on the pad, Narskinna walks up to the top of the cells and closes the cellar door and pulls a wooden bar into place, locking them in. She comes back into the little room and closes the second door, not bothering to lock it. Turning around, she withdraws the small leather bag from her robes. She pulls out the two small, black glass vials and drops the bag on the floor near the lower door. She breaks the wax seal on one of the vials as she walks towards the youngling watching her with wide eyes. Stopping a few feet from Bronze Scale, she dumps a small amber nugget into her hand. She holds it up to her eye to get a better look at it in the candle light. It is only as long as her little finger, and about as wide. It's opaque coloring shining like an uncut topaz in the dull, flickering light. 'It will have to do.' She pops the seal on the other vial and dumps out a sliver of ivory wood a few inches long next to sap shard. This too, she examines closely before bringing both items close to her chest and saying a silent prayer in her mind. The wooden shard began to grow warm in her hand and she knew it was what she wanted. She felt a familiar presence at the back of her mind that eased her nerves a little.

"Now, lick this to begin the ceremony."

Narskinna reaches down to the youngling sitting cross legged before her who tentatively takes the piece of hardened sap from her hand. Bronze scale eyes the shard in her hand with a curious look then takes a quick lick. The tangy taste it leaves in her mouth almost causes her to gag, but she swallows hard as her mouth begins to water.

"Good. Give it a few more licks. It is said that Argonian mages can enhance their powers with the more sap they ingest. It is, however, unwise to take it in large doses." says Narskinna as she turns and walks back to where she had dropped the bag and tosses the empty vials onto it. She reaches into her robes and fingers the hilt of the dagger on her hip. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 'Now comes the hard part'

Bronze Scale grits her teeth and snakes out her tongue for another quick lick. This time the taste wasn't so bad. After another lick, her tongue starts to feel numb. A slight buzzing sensation starts to creep up deep in her head. She starts to lick the shard one more time but pauses when Narskinna walks back to her one hand hidden inside her robes and puts her other hand on the youngling's forehead.

"Now don't be afraid little one. It will be over before you know it."

With a flash of green light from the palm on her brow, Bronze Scale felt her body go slack and she drops the piece of Hist sap into her lap as her arms fell loosely to her sides. The buzzing feeling in her mind starts to increase in magnitude. She begins to feel her body fall over backwards but couldn't do anything to stop it. As she starts to fall she sees Narskinna withdraw her other hand from her purple robes and with it, a simple dagger with a leather bound hilt and dull grey blade.

She hits the floor as a wave of fear overtakes her. She wants to get up and run, but her body does not respond. The ceiling began to slowly spin and her vision starts to grow fuzzy around the edges. A large shape with glowing blue eyes appears over her inert body and stoops closer, chanting slowly in a language of clicks and growls. She felt her shirt being pushed up to her chin. Confusion crept into her mind, and then a flash of pain in her chest above her heart blocked out any and all thoughts. She tried to scream, but no sound escaped her lips. The pain started to subside into a dull ache but was renewed tenfold as she felt something thrust into the wound. Something hot. All of a sudden she heard screaming and realized that it was her. She could move! She clutched her heaving chest, only to find the wound had disappeared. But the hot pain was still inside of her chest, growing hotter, burning her from the inside out. Blackness starts to overtake her senses as something enters into the back of her mind. It's whisper a soothing remedy to the fire wracking her body.

'you have a flame in your heart that cannot be doused. you do not see it now, but in time it will be unlocked. use this fire. use it to burn away those that cause pain and anguish. now sleep, little one. sleep young Fire-Heart.'

Fire-Heart gives a last groaning squeak before the blackness envelopes her completely in it's welcome embrace.


End file.
